


Deeper In

by titC



Series: Lucy [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: A good dog - Freeform, Community: daredevilbingo, Gen, M/M, Newsflash: Matt Murdock Is A Mess (in more ways than one), Sex, Sister Maggie - Freeform, most violence is offscreen but there is some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 09:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17423270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Frank starts to see more about Matt's self-destructive tendencies, and they uncover more of the mysterious conspiracy. Special Agent Madani gets involved.Lucy is still A Good Dog.





	Deeper In

**Author's Note:**

> There are some sex scenes in there, proceed as appropriate for you.  
> Check the end notes for more potential triggers (can be spoilery).
> 
> Thanks to [Beguile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beguile) for betaing!  
> For my DaredevilBingo prompt _Homeland Security_ (hi, Dinah! ♥ ).

The first time it happened, Frank didn't really think much of it. Matt had only gone out for a couple hours but everything had been quiet lately, and he’d said he’d be back early unless something came up; he’d warn if that was the case. He’d gotten better at that – letting Frank in, asking for help before he was in neck-deep. So Frank had waited for him, a quiet evening in with Lucy in his lap and a book in his hand, an ear on the roof access.

It was one when the door opened and Matt walked down the stairs. Frank looked up and checked all was well - nothing looked torn, he moved easily, he seemed fine. He’d gotten better at that too, no longer hiding it when he was hurt, no longer pretending he was fine when he wasn’t, or at least he was working on it.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Matt tore off his mask and went straight to the chest where he kept his suit, ignoring Frank. That was unusual, but maybe he was eager to get out of it. Frank watched him remove the gloves, work on his shoelaces, then get frustrated when he couldn’t untie them. That was unusual too. Frank knelt next to him and took Matt’s hand in his. “Let me,” he said. Matt’s hands were shaking. “You cold?” It wasn’t cold, but better give him an out.

“Yeah,” Matt said.

“Saved anyone tonight?”

“Just a mugging and a kid trying to rob a hardware store.”

“All right. That’s good.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Matt stepped out of his boots and started pacing. Lucy clearly decided she couldn't deal with the waves of nervous energy Matt was giving off and went to hide under the bed. Poor girl. Matt was jittery, on edge.

Frank had no idea what was eating at him; he didn’t remember Matt mentioning any work trouble or anything like that. “Anything on your mind?”

“No, I’m good.” He wasn’t. He’d taken off the top of his suit, and was now fighting with the bottom part. His hands were too unsteady though, and Frank wondered if he’d been drugged. His pupils looked normal, but then again Frank wasn’t sure they’d react to drugs.

“Did you drink too much coffee?” Frank asked.

“No. Frank, I’m – can we go to bed?”

“You don't look like you’d be able to sleep right now.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

Uh. Well. “I’m not fucking you with that thing still on, Red.”

Matt smiled. It was more of a challenge than an invitation. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Frank took a couple strides to get to him and started undoing the zippers, started tugging it down all while Matt was wriggling and trying to climb him and digging his nails in and generally being a nuisance. Frank got Matt down to his underwear, boxers and the fitted shirt he wore to prevent the suit from chafing too much. Nice, Frank thought. But the mood he was in? Not nice.

“Happy now?” Matt asked.

“Better,” Frank said. But then Matt seemed distracted again, his head twitching left and right as if he was hearing something he couldn't quite place, someone that needed him. “Matt?”

“Uh?” He jerked his head back to Frank. “Yeah, I’m here.” And then the twitching resumed.

“You hearing something?”

“No. Yes. I just – I can’t block it out, it’s nothing, it happens sometimes, it’s nothing; I just need… I can’t stop it? I just…”

He couldn't say what he needed, but Frank had always shown initiative. That had been in his files, back when he was a Marine. So he grabbed Matt’s biceps, jerked him forward and caught him in his arms, his back flush against Frank’s chest. “Stop moving, Red.”

After a moment of surprise Matt started to fight back, but Frank held tight and counted on Matt not trying to actually harm him – because he could if he wanted to. He _could_ get out, even if it would probably mean hurting Frank a little. But he didn’t. Frank tightened his grip every time Matt fought a bit harder, evaded most of his kicks and head butts, and waited for Matt to tire himself out a little. Just a little. Then Frank slid a hand down his front and yeah, he was hard. Matt froze when Frank cupped him through his boxers and seemed caught in time. He wasn’t fighting anymore.

Frank didn’t move his hand from where it was, just kept a gentle pressure, and rubbed his cheek against Matt’s. Texture, he knew. Matt loved to feel his beard and the skin around it, he loved to play with his hair, and Frank set out to remind him of that. Remind him of all the time he’d spent just _feeling_ Frank. If his senses were in overdrive right now…

Matt’s breathing changed from panting to something a bit more shuddery but he was, of course, fighting it. Fighting himself. His hips were quivering, but he was _not_ pushing into Frank’s hands; his lips parted, but he was _not_ trying to kiss Frank either. He wanted to, Frank could tell; he wanted to but he held himself as still as he could, and finally Frank pressed a little harder and Matt whined.

“Let me, let me touch you,” he said, but Frank shook his head and increased the pressure again and that was it, Matt’s hips jerked into his palm. “Frank,” he whined, but that wasn’t enough yet.

“Do you want it, Red?”

“ _Frank_ ,” and all right, fine, Frank was only human. He slipped under the boxers and took Matt in hand, and smiled at the cut-off scream that got him. Oh, yeah. Yeah, that was good: Matt squirming against him, biting his lip, not even trying to get out of the arm pinning him against Frank, that was really, really good. Frank jerked him off fast and hard, whispering encouragement in Matt’s ear – _come on_ , he said, _that’s it, let me see you, don’t fight it_. He didn’t say, _don’t fight me_.

Matt didn’t last, couldn't last, not as keyed up as he was. He came with a long, low moan that went straight to Frank’s dick and then he finally, finally relaxed against him. His head fell back on Frank’s shoulder, and his panting warmed Frank’s cheek.

“Better?” Frank said low and rough into Matt’s ear. The only answer he got was a tiny hum and Matt slumped a little more in his grip. Frank let go of his dick so he’d have two arms to support him, but Matt hadn’t agreed to that.

“No,” he said, and managed to turn around to face Frank. “No,” he said again, and he took his shirt and boxers off before taking hold of Frank’s hair and pulling him forward. He was kissing him like he hadn’t come not a minute before, hungry and eager; he pushed Frank down into the sofa, climbed on him, and started rutting all over him.

Frank was pretty eager himself and quite enjoyed it until he remembered he was still wearing jeans and a belt and – “Hey, wait. Matt.” It had to be hell on his junk, right? Must still be pretty sensitive.

“No,” Matt said, and that made all sorts of warning bells finally go in Frank’s head. Matt never said no when they were having sex. And he hated rough fabrics with good reason: his skin turned red and angry too easily. Frank’s hand went from his ass to his dick, and yes. Still soft. Matt was never soft when they were fooling around. He’d known guys who didn't get hard easily and still had a good time, but Red? No. Raring to go or not going at all.

“Come on,” Matt said, but Frank just couldn’t. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

He threw Matt over his shoulder, carried him to the shower and turned the cold water on. Matt yelped when it hit, fast and hard on his naked skin; he tried to fight and get out but Frank kept a hand on his chest and put all his weight behind it. He wasn’t budging.

“Snap out of it, Red.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not tonight.” Fuck, Frank’s own balls were shrinking just thinking about it. Not like that. Never like that. “Cut it out, yeah?”

“I’m not – what do you – ” Red’s shoulders sagged. “What…?”

Frank waited until Matt’s entire body had lost its nervous tension. “You done?”

“Frank? What...”

“You _done_?” Matt didn’t answer. He just shivered in the frigid spray, and he’d finally stopped struggling. Frank shut the water off. “All right. Okay. Now, you’re going to have a proper shower to warm up, and then you’re coming to bed, yeah?” His skin was cold as ice, and Frank refused to lie down next to an iceberg.

“But what about…”

“Just do it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Frank left him to it, shrugging out of his own shirt. His entire side was wet and cold. He wiped off the worst of it with the dry bit of his shirt and changed into the soft clothes he wore in bed that made Matt cuddle up to him like a cat.

Lucy looked out from under the bed, and Frank knelt and scratched her under the chin. “Don’t worry, girl,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

When Matt got out of the bathroom he was looking sheepish and a bit lost but Frank only said, “Come to bed,” and Matt was visibly relieved. They wouldn't talk about it right now, at least.

The next morning, in the light of day, things seemed different and the night already far away. Frank just said, “Shit, I didn’t know your hearing thing could get so bad sometimes,” and Matt said, “Yeah,” and they had normal, nice, good sex that didn’t hurt anyone.

Frank thought that was that.

 

He was wrong.

A week later, Frank came up from helping Naye with some poor mutts to find Matt on his old, worn couch. He was still wearing a suit, as if he’d come here straight from work. His tie was a bit crooked like it often was, and his hair looked like he’d ran his fingers through it too many times. “Hey, Frank,” he said.

“Hey. You're early.” They’d been supposed to meet later, have dinner, then a quiet evening together. It was the middle of the week, and Matt had agreed to sleep at Frank's when he hadn’t planned on going out at night. He probably had caught on to the fact this was a way to make sure he wouldn’t change his mind but whatever, it worked. Still, Frank hadn’t expected him until an hour or two later.

“Too early?”

“I didn't say that.”

Matt grinned when Frank came to stand in front of him and tugged him forward by the belt. Frank stepped between Matt’s spread legs and thought that it was all pretty promising.

“You got something in mind?”

“Maybe,” Matt said. He started to unbuckle the belt, then opened Frank’s fly. _Really_ promising. Frank took the red glasses off and dropped them carelessly on the table behind him. “Hey, you break’em, you get me new ones.”

“That the law, counselor?”

“Oh yeah.” Matt settled down against the back of the couch and pulled Frank by the back of his thighs until Frank’s knees where bracketing Matt’s hips. “Definitely the law.”

Then he leaned forward to breathe Frank in, and that was really, really hot. He took his time, touching and stroking and licking and kissing Frank everywhere – his stomach, his waist, his hips; then he pushed down Frank’s jeans as far down as he could (not much) and mouthed at his dick through his underwear.

“That’s good, Red,” Frank said, and he smiled at how rough his voice sounded already. Yeah, Matt knew how to work him up. Definitely up.

He was straining now, the fabric taut against him and he needed, he really needed more, but of course Matt made him wait, and wait, and Frank had to brace against the sofa’s backrest. “You fucking _tease_ ,” and it was a rasp more than his actual voice.

Matt hummed and finally, finally pulled him out and there Frank was, bobbing in front of Matt’s face, eager and leaking already. His lips were already a little bit swollen and very red, and Frank’s dick twitched. Matt sensed it, smiled, and went to town. Fuck, he was good with his mouth but what he was doing was above and beyond anything he’d done before. Shit, he’d been holding back, because the noises he made and how hard he sucked and fuck, fuck, he was swallowing around Frank, swallowing like he was born to it.

But it wasn’t enough, Matt’s hands grabbed Frank’s ass and pulled him further in, further _down_ , down his throat; one hand stayed there and the other moved Frank’s hand to his head and Frank grabbed some hair and held on, tried not to push in and fuck his mouth because he couldn’t, he was already as far as – he wasn’t, shit, no, how long could he hold his breath, how long, that wasn’t – then Frank couldn't hold anything anymore and spilled down Red’s throat.

When he came back to himself, Frank realized he was still gripping Matt’s hair and let go hurriedly. Matt coughed a little then tried to get Frank’s dick back into his mouth, but Frank was having none of it. Even a breeze of air over it would hurt right now. He moved back and rested his forehead against Matt’s, catching his breath.

“Damn,” Frank said after a minute. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”

Matt didn’t answer, and Frank opened his eyes and looked down at him. There was spit glistening all around his mouth and his chin, and he was rubbing a hand on his neck. Fuck, his cheeks were wet too.

“Hey. You alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Matt shook his head, then coughed. “Can you talk?” He shook his head. “Shit, Red, this is supposed to be fun, not, uh.”

Frank sat down on Matt’s thighs and nope, he wasn’t hard. What the hell? Frank was absolutely down with a bit of rough sex, but only if his partner also was. He wriggled his ass a bit but Matt didn’t react. So he hadn’t come in his pants either.

“You alright there?” Matt nodded, his breathing interrupted by some coughing. “I’m going to get you some water, yeah?” Frank didn’t wait for Matt to refuse and looked at him from the kitchenette. He was still catching his breath, like someone had tried to – fuck.

Frank slammed the glass on the table. “Matt.” The idiot turned his head a little, enough that Frank knew he was listening. He’d wiped his face, but it was still blotchy. “Matt, did you try to make me choke you with my _dick_?” No answer, of course. Frank picked up the glass again and went back to sit next to Matt. “Here,” he said as he pushed the glass at Matt’s hand until he took it. “So, what happened today? Bad day at work?”

Matt didn’t drink, but rested his head against Frank’s shoulder with a sigh. Shit, Frank couldn't stay angry at him.

“Look, that was… spectacular, yeah. But I’m not into it if you’re not, all right? Do you understand?” Matt nodded. “All right.” Frank knocked against the glass to remind him to drink and waited for Matt’s breathing to stop hitching and wheezing.

“I’m sorry,” Matt said after a while.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s… no. We lost. We couldn’t win, anyway.”

Frank moved to lie back against the armrest and took Matt down with him. He’d stopped coughing. “That sucks.” He petted his hair, waited a bit more to see if anything more would come. It didn’t. “So,” he said. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Keeping Carlie company.”

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Matt didn't answer. “Don’t make me _hurt_ you, Matt. I’ve hurt enough people who deserved it. I’m not doing it – I’m not doing it to you.”

“Okay,” he said.

Frank didn’t believe him for a second. Matt would do it again, and he would not even realize it. The difference between consensual roughing up that felt good and looking for pain for pain’s sake because his fucking choirboy guilt ate him up… no. Frank couldn’t, wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t there to enable _that_.

After that time, Frank kept on alert. It would happen again.

 

It did, only a few days later. Frank was staying at his apartment that night, keeping an eye on the shelter after they’re rescued a bunch of pit bulls from a some illegal breeders. The police had told them to be on the lookout for the assholes in case they came and tried to get the dogs back for their fighting rings. There usually was a kid – generally vet students looking for extra money and quiet study time, like Ravi that night – in the offices at night, but the regular ones were all skinny and young and wouldn’t hurt a fly, so Frank had stayed there too. He’d took care of any motherfucker who’d try and lay a finger on one of those dogs; he absolutely would.

He settled on his sagging couch with Lucy, set his phone nearby in case he got a text from Matt (not that he was checking it as often as Sarah said he did, but he, you know. He worried, all right?), and picked up the book Leo had insisted he read. Something about a disabled kid kicking ass in space while getting lots of lady friends.

Frank was halfway through it – that shit was addictive, Leo _hadn’t_ warned him – when a thump on the roof made him and Lucy look up. He went to the window and yes, the idiot was here. Frank opened up to let Matt slide in and closed right after. It had been raining and he didn’t want to freeze his ass off, thank you very much.

“Did you take a cab with that get-up, Red?”

“Hey, girl.” Matt took a glove off to pat Lucy’s head. “Nah. Got some cardio in, so I don’t slow you down for our Sunday run.”

“All the way from Hell’s Kitchen?” Frank slid his hand under the mask and removed it. He couldn't see any fresh injury, but that didn’t mean much. Matt’s meditation shit was good for one thing, and that was slowing down the bleeding so bruises showed days later than they should instead of when Frank wanted to know where to be careful. So: not very good.

“I had energy to burn off,” Red said. Shit, that was one way of putting it.

“And now?”

“I’m good.” Sure he was. Vibrating, more like.

“Still antsy about that contractor case?”

Matt shrugged. “We got our client a reprieve, at least.”

“That’s good, then.”

“Yeah.” Matt sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have come.” He made to grab the mask but Frank took a step back, holding it out of reach.

“You’re not going out again.”

“You’re busy tonight, and I barged in without warning you.”

“Just take off your gear and sit down, will you?”

Matt did, all the while looking like he was facing a firing squad. “I can call a cab,” he said.

“You can, but you won’t. You don’t need to.” Frank opened the small fridge and considered the contents. “You hungry?” Knowing Matt, he’d skipped at least one meal today: because he’d woken up late (okay, so that might have been Frank’s fault) or because of work or because he was too eager to put on the suit. Everything was plausible.

“I’m fi– ”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Matt smiled. “Maybe a bit peckish?”

Frank busied himself with assembling a sandwich and told Matt about the pit bulls.

“So you’re not just here as Pete the Night Guy today?”

“They probably won’t come,” Frank said. “Cops are doing rounds every half-hour. They’d have to time it well.”

“Maybe.” Shit, he was doing the Red head tilt as he spoke. “Maybe not.”

“What do you hear?”

“I think they’re not doing the rounds anymore. At least, not to keep an eye on some dogs at a small shelter.”

“Something big?”

“Hm.” Matt sniffed. “A fire. In a… hm, it smells like a… pharmacy? Drugs, chemicals burning… maybe illegal drugs? Hard to say from here. But they’ll pull a few squads to help with that.”

“Squads doing stuff that’s not considered vital.” Frank left the couch to fiddle with his police scanner. The big CVS four blocks east was on fire. The apartments above had been evacuated and there was no threat to human life thanks to an anonymous phone call, at least, but they were thinking it was arson.

“Do you think the pit bulls are worth setting a block on fire?” Matt’s head was turned so one of his ear was facing the scanner.

“I don’t know. Seems a bit extreme.”

“I’m going back out.”

“You think they’re coming?”

“I know a couple vans are coming.” Matt put his half-eaten sandwich on the table, put his mask and gloves back on, and shimmied out when Frank opened the window for him.

“I’ll warn the kid downstairs,” Frank said.

Matt was already at the top of the fire escape when Frank saw he’d left the rigid helmet and only put the fabric mask over his head. Idiot. Frank threw the helmet under the bed before tucking a gun in his belt, grabbing a rifle and some ammo and going down. He had time to check the dogs were all right and send Ravi up to hide in his apartment with Lucy when the assholes arrived. They didn’t try to be subtle about it, they parked right in front of the entrance and made straight for the kennels. They didn’t even seem to think the darkness strange. Frank had shut off everything, including the emergency lighting near the kennels. He’d just torn off the wires and boom. Goodnight, moonless night.

Frank watched them head for the kennels from the darkened office. Let them think no one was in, let them think the shelter had only relied on the police. There were a few oofs and uhns as Matt dispatched the couple guys left to guard the vans, then the hiss of tires that had just been knifed. Good thinking, Red. But what was their play? A building on fire, brand new vans, and guns you wouldn't have expected small-time criminals to have – all of this for some dogs? These guys were just making money from bets placed on dog fights, for fuck’s sake. This stank of something worse.

Frank put them in his crosshairs and waited. They had some flashlights, two of them aimed at the heavy chain Frank had used to lock the kennel. One batch, two batch – he shot the lights. Probably shot their hands too, given the screams. Penny and dime.

The dogs had started barking. The entire shelter was soon a hellscape of noise and shouts, the couple remaining flashlights slashing the darkness as the motherfuckers waved them.

“We have guns!” One of them yelled. “We’re not afraid of using them!”

Frank crept out of the office. There were a couple gunshots, but they sounded like warning shots in the air. They didn’t connect with anything alive, Frank thought. They _were_ afraid of using them. Small time fuckers had bitten off more than they could chew. Frank bumped into a large guy, more fat than muscle; he wrenched his weapon away and bashed his head in with it. A little to his right, Matt’s batons were connecting with metal, flesh, bones.

It didn’t last long. These people were not really experienced, just savvy enough not to start shooting without making sure they were aiming at a foe and not a friend. Matt was breathing a bit heavily, like he’d had a good warm-up and was just getting started.

“Let’s call it in,” Matt said. So they tied up the men, Matt made quick-and-dirty tourniquets on the two stumps so the police would have the two assholes alive enough to question, and they went back to the main building. Frank went up to get Ravi and reassure Lucy, and when they got back down Matt had made himself scarce.

“Shit. Pete, what happened?”

“I don’t know, kid,” Frank said. “They must have shot each other.”

Once the police got there, they seemed to buy the story about Pete staying in the office and a mysterious vigilante, maybe two, decimating the 10-man-strong dog-napping operation. This was New York, after all.

Ravi, on the other hand, had told Frank to change clothes before the police arrived because there was blood on it and that yes, he’d noticed Frank hastily camouflaging firearms behind the giant ficus by the front door. (The ficus was Carlie’s idea of decoration.) Frank put a fresh shirt on and stashed the guns in their regular hiding place, and Ravi mimed locking his lips and throwing the key away. Kid would do.

The sun was rising when it was all over, and Lucy was only starting to emerge from under the bed as Frank opened his window to let Matt in. His mouth was a bit tight under the mask, and Frank’s gut told him that he’d been right: this had someone else’s fingers all over it.

“Find anything?”

“Yeah.” Matt handed him a phone before starting to remove the body armor. “Can you see what’s on this? Took it from the guys guarding the vans.”

Frank poked at it but it was locked. “Nah. I’ll get it to David, he’ll know what to do.”

“Tell him to try and trace the latest number they called.”

“What did you hear?”

“They were working for someone, and I think…” Matt almost sent his mask flying, but Frank caught his wrist. “Frank, I think it has something to do with our client. The contractor.”

“Okay. We’ll deal with it.”

“I have to call Foggy. I fucked up somewhere and I have to warn him, Frank.”

“No you don’t, not right now. It’s 5am, he’s sleeping.”

“They could get to him, they could… and Karen, Frank – they could go after Karen too.”

“Not right now they won’t. It’s almost daylight, Red. Let’s grab some sleep first, yeah?”

Matt looked exhausted: his eyes roamed a bit more than usual, his skin was almost gray. “But…”

“Come on, you’re not thinking straight right now. Look, I’m sending Karen a text, tell her you’ll be in late today and to be on the lookout just in case, yeah?”

“Okay. I…” Matt removed his shirt and it made his hair stand on end. Frank mussed it up some more just to make Matt bat his hand away with a little frown. “I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Frank could see how his shoulders were still tight, his fists still curled.

“Can we…”

“Can we what?”

Matt put his hand flat on Frank’s chest and stepped closer, close enough Frank could feel Matt’s rapid breathing on his face. “I can’t sleep,” he repeated.

“Yeah, I got it the first time.” Frank smiled. He stepped back and gave a sharp tug on Matt’s wrist to make him stumble into his chest. “Need a hand?”

Matt groaned. “That line ever worked?”

“Well, it’s kinda working right now,” Frank said as Matt started attacking his fly.

He was eager and a bit clumsy. Frank chalked it up to tiredness after a very long night and didn’t think too much about it, not until they were both mostly naked on the couch and Matt was hell-bent on getting fucked, kneeling over Frank and about to sink down on him.

But Frank wasn’t having it and clamped his hands on Matt’s hips.

“I’m not fucking you dry, Red.”

Matt fought against Frank’s grip and frowned at the pillow behind Frank’s head. “It’s fine.”

“No.” Frank dug his fingers in and Matt was all steel. No way he was ready, the way his entire body was taut and caught between snapping or fighting. Definitely not fucking, though. “It’s just going to hurt.”

“I can take it.”

“ _I_ can’t.” Frank watched Matt’s face, the way it cycled between surprise, disappointment, shame, and something that looked like realization.

They stayed like that for a while, Matt hovering over him and Frank waiting for him to say something.

“I’m sorry, Frank.” He sat back down and slumped a little.

Frank petted his thighs, let him feel it was all right, they were all right. “Whatever you think you need… you can’t use me to hurt or to punish yourself, Red.”

“Well, you’re the Punisher.” Ha, a little grin.

“You little shit,” Frank said and pushed him off of his lap. He wanted to be angry, but it was so late (early) and he was tired and it wouldn’t change anything. Matt thought he’d fucked up somewhere, and found the first opportunity he could to, what? Atone or something? Fucking Catholic bull. Go court death fighting armed people with nothing but his fists and his funny little batons, push people away before they left him... Yeah, so Frank had talked to Karen, and they’d agreed: Matt was terrible at this shit – even his relationship with _himself_ was a frequent train wreck.

But Frank was tired and so they migrated to the bed, had quick, nice handjobs to release that tension and finally, at last, sleep.

They’d work on it but not tonight.

 

The next few days, Frank didn’t see much of Matt. He was spending his days working with Karen and Nelson and chasing leads at night, and he’d told Frank to stay at the shelter and keep Lucy because he didn’t have enough time for her at the moment. The pit bulls, he said, were more important than they’d thought, and another attack might come.

David had come through and called with what he’d found on the goon’s phone: not much but the phone numbers were interesting, and Matt had said he’d pay a few nightly visits to some of those. He refused to say if he’d learned anything on those, only that it wasn’t anything definitely related to what they were chasing.

But after a while, Frank got fed up with it. He called St Agnes, gathered some tools, and drove himself and Lucy to Hell’s Kitchen to work on the orphanage’s windows. He’d promised he would, and now was a perfectly good time to make sure the kids didn’t catch pneumonia because of ill-fitting frames, right? Just like Matt’s apartment, St Agnes had suffered damage after the Midland Circle earthquakes, and it hadn’t ever been fixed. Well, Frank could do that. And maybe get some intel from Matt’s mom, you know? Always useful to have some blackmail material.

Frank started on the bedrooms and dorm windows while Lucy kept a sick boy company in the infirmary, where it was calm and not too noisy. An hour before lunchtime he cleaned up a little, put Lucy’s leash on and went to Nelson, Murdock and Page. He sat himself at Karen’s desk until they were finished with whatever it was they were doing in the conference room, running his fingers on the Braille labels on the folders there and trying to read it with his eyes closed. He still couldn’t – fuck, how did Matt do it?

Finally the three of them and their client all walked out of the room. The client did a double-take when she saw Frank and Lucy behind the little Ms Page name plate. Frank did his best _Aw, shucks Ma’am_ face which made Karen smile and Nelson roll his eyes. Matt only raised his eyebrows a little. They ushered the client out, and Nelson pushed Matt in Frank’s direction, but Lucy got in the way.

“Thank god you’re here. Come on, take him away for a few hours. He’s been in a right mood since your dog adventure. Karen and I need a break.”

“It wasn’t an _adventure_ , Foggy.” Matt stood up from his communion with Lucy. “I’m trying to – ”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. He’s all yours, Frank. You can keep him for the afternoon.”

“Foggy!”

“No, Matt, he’s right,” Karen said. “You probably need a break, and _we_ definitely need a break from _you_.”

Shit, it was like a puppet show, seeing them three together. Frank watched it all with his serious, concerned boyfriend face on.

Matt frowned. “But we need to…”

“We’ve done all we can for now about _that_ and Karen and I can handle this afternoon’s clients, all right?” Nelson said.

“But what if Hiro calls back?”

“He won’t call back today, Matt. He said it would take a few days, remember?” Karen poked at Frank until he leaned forward and she could take her jacket on the back of the chair. “Now go and be cute with the boyfriend, all right?” She petted Lucy and pecked Frank’s cheek. It made Matt frown a little.

“But what if…”

“We’re leaviiiing!” Nelson opened the door and ushered Karen out, and then it was only Matt, Frank and Lucy in the little office.

Matt tilted his head. “Frank,” he said.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“St Agnes?”

“Yeah.”

“But…”

“I promised Maggie to fix their windows, and it’s not so warm at night, yeah?” Matt fidgeted a bit with his cane, but didn’t answer. “You look like shit, Matt.”

“Well, thanks.”

“Aw, come on. How much sleep have you had this week? How many meals have you skipped?” Matt shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on, I’m buying you lunch.”

“I have work to do, Frank.”

“Which you won’t be any good at if you’re tired and hungry.”

“I’m f…” Frank coughed. “Uh, feeling a little hungry?”

“Yeah, that’s better.” Frank stood up from Karen’s chair and crowded Matt against the desk. “I’m a bit hungry too, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Matt leaned back and let Frank mess him up a little, loosen his tie and untuck his shirt and fluff up his hair. His cane clattered on the floor as he kissed Frank back with enthusiasm, and it made Frank feel a little warmer. “I missed you,” Matt said.

“Yeah.” Frank had, too. “Let’s take the afternoon off, all right?”

“I…”

“Just you and me. And Lucy.” Frank pulled Matt’s head back with a fistful of hair and slid his mouth to his neck, letting his beard rub along Matt’s for once shaven (and therefore even more sensitive) skin. “What do you say?”

“Oh,” and Matt’s words were more breath than voice. “Oh, all right, you win.”

Playing dirty paid off sometimes. And it was for a good cause, yeah?

 

Mid afternoon, and Matt was conked out on his couch. Mission accomplished, Frank thought. Grocery shopping, a quick but good lunch at the apartment while Lucy enjoyed not being out and about in the busy midday streets, and Frank had done his best to tire Matt out and leave him all soft and sleepy and post-coital.

He watched Matt snuffle a little in his ratty old blanket, watched Lucy lying over his legs. “Hey, girl. You be good, yeah? You keep an eye on him.” She headbutted his hand in answer, and after a final check of the apartment (fridge: stocked, Lucy’s water bowl: full, phones: charged or charging, dishes: drying in the rack, Lucy’s harness: right by Matt’s cane, Matt: warm and sleeping) went out and locked behind him.

He walked back to the office, Matt’s briefcase slug over his shoulder. Karen looked up from her paperwork, surprised when she saw it was him knocking on the open door.

“I thought you’d stay away longer,” she said.

“Well, Matt is. I left Lucy with him too.” It would force Matt to take care of her, and maybe himself too. Remember to eat when feeding her, sort of thing. Frank handed Karen the briefcase. “Here’s his stuff, in case he wakes up and decides to work instead of rest. He can have it back tomorrow, not before.”

“Oh, smart. But he’s going to hate you.”

“I can deal.”

“Sure you can.” She smiled a bit too sweetly, and he made to leave when she stopped him. “Frank. There’s someone here you should see.” Karen looked at the conference room door. “Go in. She’s with Foggy right now, but he’s not saying anything. Not without your and Matt’s okay.”

Frank opened the door, and shit. “Madani.”

“Hello, Mr Castle.”

He looked at Nelson who had put his serious face on, back at her, then closed the door behind him and sat down facing her.

“Been a while,” Frank said.

“It has.” Madani had a closed folder in front of her. “I paid a visit to the Liebermans last week after David gave me a call.” Frank grunted, and she smiled serenely. “Wherein I discovered you absolutely didn’t save his son from a kidnapping while visiting with your boyfriend two weeks ago.”

“Damn right I didn’t.” Nelson kicked his shin.

She tapped her folder. “Luckily for you, no one actually saw your face, or if they did they’re not alive enough to tell. However, there was another guy witnessed on the scene. One with a mask over his head.” Nelson’s foot was right over Frank’s, ready to press down.

“Don’t know anything about that. Since I wasn’t there.”

“Of course.” Madani finally opened the folder in front of her. “I also found out that the dog shelter Pete Castiglione now works at has had legal issues and that this firm helped sort them out. Specifically, one Matt Murdock, the aforementioned boyfriend, Mr Nelson’s partner.” Frank gritted his teeth, and Nelson’s foot was now pressing down on his. Frank cracked his neck and jerked his leg away. Matt probably wouldn't want him to maim his buddy, but fuck if he was going to let Nelson treat him like a naughty kid. “Who absolutely wasn’t at the Liebermans’ on the day Zach got kidnapped and rescued.”

“What are your facts, Agent Madani?” Nelson said. “My client here has nothing to say about things he knows nothing about, and if you don’t have anything on him – as seems to be the case – why are you here making veiled threats at him?”

“I’m not here on an official visit, but what I’ve found…” Madani shook her head slightly. “Look, I will need your help, and that of your partner. I’d like to talk to him.” Shit. Shit, she’d guessed about Matt – or at least, she was getting there. Nelson knew it too. Shit.

“Matt is home, unwell. He took the afternoon off.” Nelson smiled sweetly. Yeah, he could see why he was Matt’s friend all right. Both were little shits. “You’re welcome to make an appointment with him at a later date and see what he can or can’t share with you, of course. Attorney-client privilege, you understand.”

“Mr Nelson, I am actually trying to help. I’m trying to keep Mr Castle’s name out of this. There’s something at stake here, something bad. I need to talk to Castle and I need to see Mr Murdock, since he worked the shelter case.”

“What’s the shelter got to do with any of this?” You had to hand it to him: Nelson could play it cool under pressure like nobody’s business when he was in attorney mode.

“You probably heard about the attack last week.” Nelson kept his mouth shut and put his foot back on Frank's. Fuck, again? Hadn’t he been clear the first time? Frank leaned back in his chair and straightened his legs out. When they didn’t say anything in a while, Madani sighed and went on. “One masked vigilante was spotted, although witnesses got knocked out too quickly for their accounts to be precise or, perhaps, very accurate.” She insisted on those last words. _All right, Madani, we get it_. “Then someone with sniper skills shot their lights off, and since the emergency lights were mysteriously not working it was all pretty dark. The intern working nights there couldn’t say when the power cut exactly due to being very shocked, etcetera, etcetera. He actually said, ‘etcetera, etcetera.’” Ravi was a smartass and Frank would have a little talk with him about what keeping you mouth shut meant.

“He’s just a kid,” Frank said.

Madani hummed. “So what I get from this all is: you didn’t shoot anyone, and you didn’t work with a masked vigilante who prefers the cover of darkness just like, what a coincidence, the one known to operate right around here.” Frank was going to bust a tooth. He was going to bust another tooth, he was so pissed. He sat up and planted his elbows on the table.

“Look, I have my suspicions, but I promise you, Castle – I’m keeping your names out of this as much as I can. But you have to help me out, you and your lawyer friend.”

“You leave him alone, Madani.” Frank bit back a growl, Nelson would probably have broken a toe or two if Frank hadn’t been wearing thick work boots.

“I can’t. It’s bigger than you and him, and you know it.”

“Agent Madani, I can only repeat what I said before: make an appointment with my partner to see what he can share on that dog shelter case. My client and I can’t help you in any other way.”

“Not officially, no.”

“We’re attorneys acting in accordance with the law, Agent Madani.”

“Of course.” Madani sighed and stood up. “Look, Castle. here’s my personal number. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Frank said as he took it. Huh. “There’s Braille on it, Madani.”

“As I said. Just in case.”

She left. Frank and Nelson looked at each other. “She knows,” Nelson said.

“Looks like.” Frank ran his fingers over the card and wondered yet again how these dots could make any sense for Matt. “She’s all right, yeah. But she’s a suit first.”

“What do we do? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. She’s right: it’s too big, and if anyone can keep our names out…”

“So big that neither you or Matt have told us much.” Nelson sighed. Being kept in the dark sucked, yeah. “Plausible deniability, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it – for now.” But not for long. Frank got the message loud and clear. “So, more urgently: you trust her?”

Yeah, Frank trusted her drive, he trusted her word too – but the minute throwing him or Matt under the bus served the greater good better… Frank respected that, he really did. But at the end of the day, he couldn’t say he could trust her to keep their names out no matter what.

“I’ll leave her card on his desk. You tell him it’s there, Nelson,” Frank said as they got out of the conference room and into Karen’s office.

“Fine. You got yourself into something again, right? The both of you.”

“But we got ourselves a fine lawyer to save our asses, yeah?”

“Oh, sure. Put it all on me. Just go away before you scare off all our afternoon’s clients, all right?”

“It’s not because you’re scared of me that everyone is, Nelson.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Yes you are, Foggy,” Karen said.

“Ms Page, you’re fired.”

Karen laughed at Nelson. Frank left them to their familiar teasing and went back to St Agnes. He still had a couple hours’ work left in the day before heading back to the shelter, which meant maybe he could wheedle out some more stories from Maggie about teen Matt. Frank found it rather amusing to learn that he got into fights and argued to get his way even before he’d become a fully formed Red, law degree and all.

 

The rest of the week was all pretty much the same: nights spent keeping watch over the shelter, days working on his usual odd jobs and calling Matt to make sure that yes, Frank, he’d got some sleep and yes, Frank, he’d had some proper food and yes, Frank, Lucy was fine. He had found a bar where people of a certain right-wing persuasion met, but he'd refused to tell Frank where exactly until he could get more information either as a lawyer or a vigilante.

David texted him on Friday to say Madani had put his house under watch, but that he’d learned things he wanted to talk about. He suggested they met in a small, abandoned construction site up in the Bronx, and Frank drove there thinking it was a bit funny and warranted bringing a couple guns with him just in case. David wasn’t there when he got to the site, and he set out to wait with his sandwich and Thermos of coffee.

 

Frank woke up in his own bed above the shelter with a disheveled and anxious Matt holding his hand, Lucy heavy on his legs, and Madani looking down at them with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“What – ” he started, then his stomach turned over and Matt shoved a bin in his hands. It felt like his insides were at war with him, and he found he couldn't really hold the bin by himself and needed help with that, too. He spat out what bile he had left, retched some more, then fell back on his pillow. Lucy was watching him from the foot of the bed now, her head on the mattress. Ugh, his head was killing him. Everything was strange and slow and a bit blurry, more than what it should be.

“You’re awake,” Matt said. He held out a glass with a straw that was only shaking a little in it and Frank sipped from it dutifully. He hoped he wouldn’t puke again. It felt like it wasn’t the first time, given how raw his throat was and the acrid taste in his mouth.

“Mr Murdock was very worried, Castle.”

“You were… Frank, you were in a bad way.”

“Don’t remember anything.” His brain was unpleasantly fuzzy and slow. “Feels like BZ.”

“It was. I found canisters around the site when I got there. Not at life-threatening doses, which is something Mr Murdock doesn’t seem to understand.” Matt frowned, but didn’t say anything. “That, and you were halfway delirious for the entire night, and didn’t recognize us at times.” Fuck, that sounded bad. Frank blinked a the ceiling for a few moments trying to process it all, but his thoughts were just too sluggish.

Wait, what was Madani doing in his apartment? And what about… “David?”

“He’s the one who called Mr Murdock, somehow thinking a blind lawyer a better option than me. His phone was hacked, maybe when he was at work; we’re investigating it. He never sent the messages you got.”

“Ambush.”

“Yes. You waited for him, had time to breathe in enough of the stuff to enjoy its effects, but you were rescued before it was too late.”

“Rescued?”

“David called me,” Matt said. Ah, yeah. She’d said. Frank looked at Madani.

“And then your boyfriend called me, Castle. From the construction site. Found him with a scarf over most of his head, carrying you out to my car as soon as I got there.”

“He’s not that heavy,” Matt said. “And there was something wrong in the air, I didn’t want to breathe in whatever it was.” Maybe he had, though, he was a little gray.

“You’re what, Castle, 190 pounds? 200? I’m sorry, Mr Murdock, _I_ ’m not carrying him anywhere.” She crossed her arms. “And agent BZ is odorless.”

“No it isn’t.”

Madani rolled her eyes. “Are you even actually blind? You were not using a white cane or a guide dog that I remember, earlier.”

“I _have_ a guide dog,” he said. “And canes.”

“Yes. And you were not using them.”

“I was. Lucy was with me.”

“Wait,” Frank said. “You took Lucy?”

“I took a cab with Lucy, yes. Then when I got there it smelled wrong, so I tied her near the entrance so she wouldn’t get poisoned too, and um.”

“Will you just admit it?” Madani was pissed.

Frank caught Matt’s wrist before he snapped. He could feel it in his bones, he could feel him vibrating with anxiety and worry and the need to punch someone, anyone. To make someone pay. Maybe make himself pay if there was no one else. “Don’t.”

“Frank, they tried to – and she’s only interested in – I’m not losing you too.” Aw, shit. “Not you too.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Red. Madani is doing her job, yeah?” She nodded. “She just nodded. I’m fine, you got me out in time. Now we’re all going to put an end to this shit, and she won’t tell anything about us, all right?”

“You know I can’t promise that for sure.”

Frank tightened his grip on Matt’s wrist. “Madani.”

“I can only promise to do all I can not to.” She took her phone out and waved it. “Right as we got you back here, I sent some agents to the site to try and find evidence. We’ll work together, all right? But I need your help, just as you need mine.”

“Fine.” Frank squeezed Matt’s wrist.

“Fine,” Matt finally gritted out. “We’ll call you.”

“You do that.” She knelt to scratch behind Lucy’s single ear, and put on her coat. “Look, Castle. You really didn’t look good when we brought you here. Take it easy for a few days, okay? I don’t want to have your boyfriend against me.”

“I already am,” Matt whispered when she’d closed the door behind her. “She didn’t want to call a doctor, not even Naye who was still downstairs. Frank, you felt – your heartbeat, and your smell, it was all wrong, all wrong; you were…”

“Yeah, that’s scary shit.” Frank let himself fall back on his pillow. “But there’s not much you can do but wait it out, you know? Fluids and that shit.” Matt shook his head and didn’t answer. Frank took his glasses off and yeah, fuck, his eyes were all wet, glistening in the slanted afternoon light. “Matt?”

“I can’t. Stick was right, but I can’t…”

“Hey, no, no.” Frank tugged on Matt’s arm until he laid down next to him, and Lucy jumped over them. “I’m all right, yeah?” Well, not quite, but getting there. The headache, the slow brain, the nausea – it would all pass. “You’re good, Red. You did good, yeah? And Madani; it was a good call. She won’t tell, all right? She won’t. Come on, Red, you trust me, yeah?” Matt let the words wash over him. He wasn’t moving from his sprawl over Frank, breathing deeply. “Fuck, Matt, are you smelling me? Must be pretty rank by now, yeah?”

“You smell alive,” he said. Cute, but now he was thinking about it Frank felt he desperately needed a shower. And someone to help him there, shit, he was a noodle. His entire body was an overcooked noodle.

“All right, I smell alive.” Frank kissed Matt’s forehead. “That’s good. Can you help me up, though? Now that we know how strong you are. I need some help to get to the shower.”

“I carried you before.”

“You did. You hadn’t had an entire building crush you, then.” Frank ran a hand down Matt’s spine, his hips. He knew it all still hurt sometimes, even if Matt was too proud to admit it. “I bet hot water would do you good too, yeah?”

“You’re not fully recovered yet.”

“I stink.”

Matt finally gave him the smallest smile and said, “Yeah, okay, you do,” before hauling him up by he arm and letting Frank lean on him as they hobbled to the shower.

It was very awkward because Frank had to sit and the shower stall was tiny, but Matt knelt down too and worked shampoo in Frank’s hair and massaged his scalp. It was really, really nice and Frank thought he might consider getting a place with a tub one day, just to see Matt playing with soap suds a bit longer. He kept trying to touch them and they kept trying to pop out. It was a game he didn’t seem to tire of, however frustrating it had to be.

After their shower, Matt set Frank on his couch with Lucy, changed the sweat-soaked sheets, went out for a short walk with Lucy and came back with crackers and biscuits and some fresh fruit. Frank was dozing when he came back, but perked up right away when he heard Matt unlock the door. He was still feeling like microwaved crap, but having Matt and Lucy around did make it more bearable.

“Don’t go out tonight,” Frank said.

So Matt didn’t.

 

It took Frank two more days - two more fucking days - to get back on his feet. Matt had made him call Curt to make sure that yes, he’d live, but it hadn’t entirely reassured Matt. He’d worked from Frank's apartment as much as he could apart from a court appointment and walking Lucy. He went up on the roof to make his calls so he wouldn't disturb Frank, and he stayed with him at night, officially because the shelter was still a potential target. The pit bulls were still there, because no one knew what to do with them and Madani had said it was better not move them for now. Frank knew very well she had eyes on it and so did Matt, but he didn’t mind letting Red pretend he cared for the _mission_ first, or the case – however he thought of it. Probably _duty_.

Too bad the blind old ninja was already dead, because Frank would have liked to have words with him. The kind of words that included fists. What he'd gathered from a few conversations with Karen and Maggie, from Matt’s behavior... That had been child abuse, and he’d been a repeat offender.  
So, Matt had constantly switched from fretting over Frank to brooding at the window for those two days, and Frank was more than ready to see him put on his suit and go all Fists of Justice on whoever Red felt deserved it just so he could spend some of that tension. What kind of jerk taught kids that a warrior shouldn't care, ever? If Frank hadn’t had Maria and the kids to come back to, he knew he’d have snapped much, much earlier. Hell, just look at Billy. He hadn’t had anyone to really tie him up to the world, not really. Or he hadn’t _let_ anyone, more like.

But many people were tying Red down to earth now, even if he still fought it sometimes. Many people and one dog. Frank watched Matt put the harness on Lucy before taking a cab to the office to spare them both the subway.

“Sure you don’t want me to come with you tonight, Matt?”

“No, I’m good,” he said.

“Call if you change your mind, yeah?”

“I will.” He wouldn’t.

“All right. You take care, Matt.” Frank caught his hand and kissed the palm, taking care to rub his cheek just a bit against Matt’s fingers. It never failed to make him part his lips a little, linger a few more seconds on Frank’s beard. He never seemed to tire of it, and Frank didn’t either. “You take care.”

Matt nodded, looking a little dazed, and walked out with Lucy.

Carlie’s voice wafted in from the yard. “Abandoning the boyfriend today?”

“I’m not _abandoning_ him, Carlie!”

“Aw, I’m teasing you, Matt. That your cab?”

Frank closed the window, smiling a little. He had work to catch up on today, better start now.

 

Matt, of course, didn’t call that night. Frank wasn’t too surprised, but then mid-morning came and he still had no news. Was it just Matt sleeping in, or was it something else? He tried to focus on work – cleaning out a kennel, feeding and exercising some of the dogs, putting away the deliveries of food and medication… there was a lot to do, and it filled his mind enough to dampen other thoughts. Not entirely, though.

Slightly before lunchtime, his phone finally rang.

“Yeah,” he said. It wasn’t a number he recognized.

“Castle, your boyfriend fucked up my operation last night, and I’m this close to throwing him out to the wolves.”

Madani. “What happened?”

“Never mind what happened. Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“I don’t know, Madani.” Frank could make a few guesses, but he wouldn’t share them. “What happened?”

“He mowed down my team is what happened, Castle. We’d coordinated, we’d planned everything, and the minute he decided it wasn’t going his way he decimated trained, experienced federal agents. He didn’t kill any but it was a near thing. You put a leash on him, or I swear…”

“No.”

“No?”

“You’re not telling me everything.”

“Need to know basis.”

“What about your working together spiel, Agent Madani? Thrown out of the window as soon as you don’t get your way?”

“As soon as your pet lawyer forgets what he’s supposed to do, more like.”

 _Pet lawyer?_ The fuck, Madani. “What was he supposed to do?” Frank was furious, but he couldn’t decide if he was more furious at Matt or at her. He needed to know more to make up his mind. “I’m waiting.”

There was a noise on her end, like she was playing with a mug. “Damn, I haven’t slept all night and I still can’t because I have to fix that mess. _His_ mess. Look, we’ve been looking into the kid that had friended Lieberman’s son, remember?”

Oh, he did. “A… Sammy, right?”

“Yes. He disappeared right after the kidnapping. Murdock and I, we tracked him down. It was a promising lead, and your boyfriend worked hard on that.”

“I bet he did, yeah.”

“We found him.”

“Alive?”

“Oh yes, alive. We circled the building, got ready to go in, find the kids, subdue the adults, as planned. We found out the organization poses as a charity that helps kids in the streets, except they train them and use them instead.”

“And?”

“Murdock was with me, as the lawyer who’d helped the case. He said there were about a dozen other kids inside, most of them very young, and no adult. He wouldn't say how he got his intel and without any more detail I sent the team in.”

“Your _armed_ team.”

“We thought there were armed adults! There should have been, that’s what _our_ intel told us: the kids on the middle floors, the armed guards above and under.”

“You didn't believe him.”

“Don’t tell me the blind boyfriend can see through walls, now.”

“See, no.” Frank sat on the crate of dog food he’d just opened before her call. “What did he tell you, exactly?”

“He told us not to go in and to call CPS.”

“But you sent your team in instead,” Frank guessed.

“One minute he was right there with me, the next I had reports from inside the building about the lights being down, then fights.”

“Don’t you all have night vision goggles?”

“We do. They’re not very useful when someone steals a flashlight and shines it into our faces, though.”

“Aw, clever.” Attaboy, Matt.

“Castle, half my team is down for broken bones and other shit. I got two guys who may need crutches for the rest of their lives.”

“And what about the kids?”

“They’re fine. He was right, they were all pretty young apart from a couple older ones, including Sammy.”

“They were the expendable ones.”

“Probably. Either those they hadn’t spent a lot of time training, or those that didn’t give satisfaction. That’s our theory, at least.”

Frank whistled. “Pretty heavy shit.”

“Yeah.” Madani sighed. “Yeah, it is.”

“Why do you want to find him?”

“I need to know how he got this intel. If we’re working together, we need to actually communicate and share! Because he didn’t, I’m now down 6 good operatives and we still don’t have anything on the people we’re tracking.”

“Look, Madani. It’s all on you. He did his part. You didn’t listen.”

“And I’m supposed to believe a blind man’s assessment on who’s inside a building he hasn’t even stepped foot in?”

“You know who he is. You know what he can do.”

“I don’t know _how_.”

“He can hear, Madani. He can hear, and smell, and feel stuff you and I have no idea about. If he says there are ten kids in a building you’re circling, you listen to him. At least check before barging in.” Frank looked up at the sky. Madani acted on what she knew, and on what were reasonable assumptions. She hadn’t been wrong, exactly; but she’d have to take the hit herself if she still wanted to cover for Matt. “You did right with what you had, Madani. And you got those kids out safe.”

He heard a creak, maybe her chair. One of those fancy leather ones she must have in her office. “Yeah, we did. Let’s hope we’ll give them a better life, too.”

“You did good.”

“I don’t know. But you found yourself… _someone_ , Castle.”

“I know. And, Madani.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ll get them. You’ll find something in that building, and we’ll get them.”

“We have to.” There was a muffled conversation then, as if Madani had put her hand over the phone, then her voice came back loud and clear. “I have to go. Let me know when you find him, okay? He took some hits, too. Our forensics people will probably find his DNA, but… I’ll deal with it, all right?”

“All right, Madani. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah?”

“‘Take the hit and get back up’?”

“You spent some time with Matt.”

“I did. We’ll be in touch.”

She hung up without waiting for his answer, and Frank wasn’t one little bit surprised. She was still pissed, and even more pissed knowing that she’d been wrong but hadn’t really had a way to know it. And Matt… Matt was probably riding a combination of righteous fury over the near-disaster of that mission and good old guilt for what he’d done to the agents. But he was probably hurt too, and if he thought he was being hunted by Madani’s people that explained the radio silence.

Time for a little trip to Hell’s Kitchen, starting at St Agnes. Frank refused to imagine there was anything seriously wrong with Matt. Or nothing more than usual, at least.

He knocked on Carlie’s door and waited for her to look up from her computer. “Hey, Pete. What’s with the long face?”

“I got to go. Anything needs to be done now or can it all wait?”

“Did you put the deliveries away?”

“Yeah.”

“All right then. I think we can do without you this afternoon.” Carlie narrowed her eyes. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Carlie.”

“Did Matt catch your plague, then? He stayed with you while you were down, after all.”

“Something like that.”

She laughed. “Fine, be all mysterious, see if I care. Oh hey, if you’re seeing him, can you give him that?” She held out a little box.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Naye found out the pits were chipped, but that they weren’t regular ID chips. He said he wanted them, so she got them out for him.”

“All right, thanks. Will do.” The box had a seal over it, the kind labs used to trace samples. “Looks like you’re not playing around.”

“Matt said it might have something to do with why the shelter was attacked.” Carlie looked at him pointedly. He’d never confirmed her suspicions about that night, and he didn’t intend to. He was just the handyman here, you know? The less she knew… “Fine, be all silent and broody. You take care, all right? Both of you.”

“Yeah. You too,” Frank said.

She shook her head at him, a little worried frown on her face, and he left her office.

 

Frank parked behind St Agnes and made first for the church next door. Matt’s first choice of hiding place would probably be the crypt and the basement that connected church and orphanage, even if it wasn’t the best. Frank walked in toolbox in hand and waved at one of the nuns as he made for the stairs. They were used to him now, and she didn’t seem surprised to see him. The toolbox was better than a badge to get places, really, and meant he could keep the chips with him without looking like he’d stolen someone’s blood samples.

He could hear low voices once he reached the laundry room, so he put the toolbox down and followed the sounds. He wasn’t surprised to recognize Matt’s voice and his mother’s.

“Hey,” he said.

“Frank?” Matt was sitting on a stone bench, arms wrapped around his knees and wearing ratty old sweats, the kind he stockpiled everywhere he went more than twice. He looked mostly fine from what he could see and something loosened in Frank's guts.

“Figured you’d be here.” He nodded at Maggie. “Ma’am,” he said.

Maggie rolled her eyes at his address and stood up. “Hello, Pete. I was about to make Matthew a sandwich, do you want one too?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“You are very polite, Pete.” She gave Matt a mom-glare Frank wouldn’t have liked to have aimed at him and left.

“She doesn’t look happy with you,” Frank said.

“Who is?”

“Not Madani, that's for sure.” Frank sat next to Matt and waited for him to wriggle closer as he usually did. “She called me this morning.” And waited some more.

“They were about to – ”

“I know, she told me. Kids are all right now, she said.”

“They’re already orphans, Frank.” Matt was still keeping his distance.

“I know.” _And you remember what it’s like, don’t you_ , Frank thought. “Where’s Lucy?”

“I left her next door with Fran last night, just in case.”

“Fran?” Frank shrugged. “Okay. At least Lucy’s not alone.”

“She likes Fran.”

“All right, Matt. All right.” Fuck it. Frank wrapped an arm around Matt and pulled him in. “You ready to go home now?”

“They’re watching my place.”

“Nah. I talked to Madani: she’s not out for your blood anymore.”

“I almost killed them, Frank.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I wanted to.”

“You didn’t.”

“I shouldn't have… Frank, I shouldn't have. I lost it.”

“We all got triggers, Red.”

“I’ve always been too – I can’t.” His forehead fell on his knees, and his voice was muffled. “I’m too impulsive. Stick always said –”

“Fuck the old man, yeah?” Frank shook Matt a little. “You didn’t kill anyone, you did what you had to do.” And if some agents ended up unable to go back in the field, well, they signed up for the job knowing the risks. That's how it was.

“I never wanted to be like that,” he mumbled.

“Like what? Like what, Red?”

Matt didn’t answer, and since Maggie came back then with a tray, Frank knew he wouldn't. He could make a pretty good guess of what he’d meant, anyway.

 

After they ate – or rather, after Frank ate and Matt had to be guilted into it by his mother quoting scriptures at him – Frank asked Maggie if there was anything he could do at St Agnes before they left. She looked down at her son before sending Frank to check a leak in the boys’ bathrooms.

The leak was just a slightly too loose U-Bend under a sink, and he figured he might as well give her more time with Matt if that’s what they needed, so he found a nun peeling apples in the kitchen and sat down with her. He was good with a knife, too.

When he got back downstairs, he found Matt half-asleep on the stone bench, his head right by his mother’s leg. Maggie was petting his hair, but she stopped when she looked up and saw Frank watching them. He wondered if the other nuns knew. He wondered _who_ knew, really.

“I have work to do,” she said in a low voice.

“Yeah.”

“I should go,” Matt mumbled. He didn’t budge either.

“Lucy’s probably waiting for us,” Frank said.

Maggie took her hand away from Matt’s head and gave him a little push. “Well then. You’re needed, Matthew. Can’t keep your girl waiting.”

Matt’s face had _But, mooom_ written all over it in a way he’d never say out loud, but he did finally sit up. His hair was flopping down on his forehead and he looked ready to go back to sleep. “Is it late?” Wow, yeah. He usually had a pretty good idea of the time it was.

“Late afternoon.” Frank bumped Matt’s arm with his elbow when he stood up and felt Matt’s hand settle right where it belonged. Frank wondered if he’d have a little Matt-shaped groove there, one day. “You’re moving like an old man, Red.”

“Fu-” Maggie cleared her throat. “Um. Feels like it?”

“I bet it does. Ma’am,” Frank said just to make her shake her head, and he left St Agnes with Matt on one arm and the toolbox in his other hand.

 

Frank left Matt on his couch and went next door to get Lucy. Fran tried to get him to come inside for some coffee and possibly take a look at her broken washing machine, but Frank managed to retreat to Matt’s apartment before it was too late.

“Fran really likes you,” Matt said from under a very clingy Lucy.

“Yeah, well. I’m a real ladies’ man.”

Matt pushed Lucy off of him and frowned in Frank’s general direction. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what.”

“I’m not, you know.”

“Fuck’s sake, Red. You’re not what, a woman? Thank you, I noticed a while ago.”

“No. Yes.” Matt sat up. “I’m not… easy.”

“You think women are easy? You think _Maria_ was?”

“It’s just... someone told me once, she couldn't deal with it. Me. That she didn’t need my… my everything, I guess. Not as anything other than a friend.”

“Your everything?” What was he _on_ about?

Matt shrugged. “The suit, the injuries, the... I don’t know. She said I thought I was a martyr, and that she didn’t want to deal with that.”

“She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t want.”

“Yeah.”

“And you think I don’t?” Frank asked. Matt turned to his side and buried a hand in Lucy’s fur at the foot of the couch. “Shit, you think I don’t?” Frank lifted Matt’s legs and sat on the couch. He could wrap his hands all the way round the ankles in his lap. “Remember who I am, Red? What I’ve done? And I’d do it all again, you know that. Is that what _you_ want in your life?” It felt like he could snap the bones if he squeezed just a little harder. Frank breathed out, relaxed his fingers. They were both a mess, Red and him, and that was just how it was. Who they were.

“It is,” Matt said.

“Okay then.”

So that was that.

 

After a while, Frank got up to start poking at Matt’s fridge. As usual, it was pretty much empty, and so it fell on Frank again to feed them properly.

“Anything you’d like?”

Matt shook his head, and Frank thought maybe one day he should plunk an MRE in his lap and see how he liked that. Maybe not today, though.

Frank took a little walk around the block with Lucy and then went on a grocery run. Matt was working on his laptop upon return, an earbud in one ear and Lucy snoring softly on the couch by his side. Frank busied himself putting everything away first, then leaned over the back of the couch.

“Karen and Nelson know where you’ve been today?”

“Maggie called the office early today,” he said and removed the earbud.

“Nelson about to ream you a new one for missing work again?”

“Not this time, no. I thought Madani’s operation might last until the morning, so I’d warned him.”

“All right.” Frank walked back to the hallway and opened the toolbox. “Carlie gave me a box this morning. Something about the pit bulls’ ID chips. She said you’d asked for them.” He put it down on the coffee table.

“I didn’t want to have Madani come again to the shelter.” Matt closed the laptop. “The numbers David found on the phone you gave him, they’re people linked to the contractor case I worked last month. Also a couple numbers that were from the burners found at the house they kept Zach.”

“And the chips?”

“I’m not sure, but Madani will know. The guy I took the phone from, he was calling someone. They were saying something about wanting chips and not dogs, and I heard him answer you didn’t put chips in dogs if you could lose the dogs. I didn’t think much about it, at first, just that I should get the phone.”

“But?”

“But a few days later Foggy talked about the best dogs he’d even eaten in his life, and I thought, fuck, _he_ wasn’t talking about hot dogs. So I called Naye and asked her if the dogs were chipped, and she said they were but the chips were not working. She hadn’t mentioned it because she figured, stolen dogs, they probably did something to the circuits.”

“You want me to get these to Madani?”

“I should tell her to come to the office. She’s been there a couple times, it wouldn't look too strange.”

“She hates your guts at the moment.”

“Yeah, there’s that.” Matt sighed. “I did hurt her team. Badly.”

“You still stuck on that?”

“They were not criminals, Frank. They were just doing their jobs, and I… I can hear every bone crack, I can hear the brain sloshing right as I’m giving them a concussion; I can hear the tendons tear and the muscle fibers snap and the blood in their chest and their heartbeats pick up or slow down and…” Matt shuddered. “I don’t care when it’s, you know, kidnappers, or muggers, or… but not them. All of them. They didn't deserve it. I just… I wasn’t even thinking, I just went through them.”

Frank sat on the armrest. “And do you hear it, when it’s your bones breaking, your head cracking?”

“Yeah.”

“But you still do it.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, I bet it’s not.” Shit, Red.

After a while, Matt’s head nudged his arm a little, and Frank moved to let it fall right between his side and the couch. “Frank,” he said.

“Mm.”

“I’ll kill someone, one day.”

“No you won’t.”

“You know it’ll happen. Probably already has, I just never knew.”

“Red, the difference is...between you and me, the difference is, I set out to kill. You don’t. You value all life. I don’t. You think everyone deserves a second chance. I don’t.”

“You do. Everyone does.”

“Twist my words, why don’t you.”

“I’m a lawyer, Frank.”

“That you are, Red. That you are.”

They stayed like that for a while, Matt resting against him and Frank thinking, _shit, when we first met we’d have said the same things but with our fists, and now._ And now. Frank kissed the top of Matt’s head before getting up to prepare dinner.

 

They talked about lighter topics through the evening as they ate and washed the dishes. What park they could try for their next run, who Lucy liked best, whether Matt was allowed or not to keep his socks on in bed when Frank was with him.

Matt put away the last plate, and Frank crowded him against the counter before he turned around. Shapeless sweats or not, Frank still wanted Matt. They hadn’t properly touched each other for days, almost a week, and Frank had gotten used to more. More sex, yes, but also just more Matt: more of his skin, more of his noises, and more of his smiles.

Frank rested his chin on Matt’s shoulder, his hands on Matt’s hips; could feel his back expanding with every breath against his own chest. “That good?”

“Yeah,” Matt breathed out.

So Frank moved a hand to the sink in front of Matt, put a little more of his own weight on him, let him feel his entire body, his breath on Matt’s neck, his arm around – ah, yes. He’d expected it, that little hitch, the brief tensing of his stomach.

“You hurt there?” Frank loosened the arm he’d wrapped around Matt’s waist.

“I’m, I’m a little hurt everywhere. Nothing bad, just, yeah. A little.”

What Matt Murdock deemed _a little hurt_ might go from a sprained wrist to several broken bones, but for once Frank didn’t think he was downplaying it. “Let me see,” he just said and pushed him into the bathroom. He wanted to see him, see where he could touch, see where it would hurt; he wanted to see if he could do anything. He just wanted to see… everything.

He unzipped Matt’s sweatshirt and pushed it down his shoulders, undid the drawstring on his pants and pushed them down too. Matt was standing there, a bit awkward, naked and not seeming to really understand why he was if Frank wasn’t touching him. “Do I look that bad?” he finally asked.

“Shit, Red.” Frank pulled Matt into him and turned them to face the mirror on the back of the door. “Shit, I wish you could see yourself.”

Matt turned his head a little. “What do you see?”

“Just… you’re all bruises and scars, Matt.” The bullet graze he’d got when they rescued Zach was still red on his flank. The gold cross hanging from a string around his neck that Frank knew came from Red’s mother. Deep abrasions, new and puffy and angry, up on his arm. There were older scars Frank already knew well all over his body, and bruises – bruises everywhere. Old ones, new ones, blue and yellow and purple and green. Color wasn’t a clear indicator of their age, what with his meditation thing. If Red shaved, there would probably be more bruising on his jaw. “I wish you’d be more careful, you know. That you’d take better care of yourself.”

“I…”

“Sometimes I think, if you could see yourself, would you be more careful? But you can’t, so I’ll tell you, all right?” Frank ran his fingers down Matt’s arms and lifted his hands. The knuckles were still a bit raw and swollen, but Maggie had probably iced them today. Frank put them flat on the mirror in front of them, and Matt bent a little forward. “Shit, Red. Even your back is a mess. No, don’t move,” he added when Matt twisted. “Let me look at you, all right?”

“Frank, what are you doing?”

“I’m just looking, Red. You look good, you know. Anyone ever told you that? Yeah, you look good.” The knobs of his vertebrae, and the curl of his shoulders, and his collarbone in the mirror and his pointy hipbones and his eyes, unseeing and so wide. He was still trying and failing to understand what it was Frank was doing.

So Frank helped. He held Matt’s hips against his, kissed him between the shoulders, waited until Matt started to push back against him. That was it, he thought. Yes, that was it.

“Keep your hands there,” Frank said; and he took off his clothes and threw them in a corner before going back to all that skin. “You cold?” Matt shook his head. “All right. You tell me if you are, yeah? You tell me if I hurt you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you are.” Frank covered Matt’s back with his own body, skin to skin; he put his palms flat on Matt’s stomach, his chest, his sides; he pulled him in a little by the hips and held him right against his own, thrusting just barely, just enough so he’d feel his intent; but there was no hurry. No hurry at all.

Matt was breathing harder now, he was squirming and wriggling and Frank watched him in the mirror. He looked at his open face, his red mouth; he looked down to his own hands moving over his abs, his thighs. Matt felt strong and hard yet he looked so breakable, too. So much black and blue, everywhere. His dick though, his dick was pink and eager, and Frank smiled. Yeah, that’d do.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said, and Matt’s lips parted. “Sounds good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

It wasn’t something they did often; Matt’s sensitivity made it too much sometimes and Frank had learned to look for it, because Matt of course – Matt wouldn’t _say_. But now, his head was slightly turned, listening for Frank opening the cabinet, squeezing some lube on his fingers, and he was smiling and biting his lip and pushing back into Frank. Now, he wasn’t just not saying no; all of him was saying _yes_. Frank would take his time and make him feel everything.

“Frank,” Matt said.

“Busy.” Busy feeling Matt’s back muscles shift and move and slide against his own chest, busy nosing and kissing and just breathing on his neck and shoulders, busy watching Matt’s shivers and listening to his little moans as Frank took his time: one finger, slow and thorough, two, three; and Matt was getting impatient. That was the idea.

“Frank,” and this time it was a whine.

“Told you. Busy.”

“Frank, I can take _more_.” Oh, sure, he could. He wasn’t the one deciding, though.

“I know.”

“And you’re not _touching me._ ”

“I am.” Not where Matt wanted it, but he was.

“ _Frank,_ ” and he made a little gasp when Frank twisted his fingers just a bit inside him and kept the pressure right there.

“Touching you.”

Matt’s head fell between his arms, and when Frank started moving again he was definitely panting. Frank hooked his chin over Matt’s shoulder, watched the little golden cross swing back and forth, back and forth, and fine, okay, Frank was impatient too.

He took his fingers out, added some more lube on himself, and thought _slow, slow, slower,_ just because it made Matt mad and Frank wanted him there, wanted him frantic, wanted him pushing back on him, pushing back against Frank’s hands on his hips. But he couldn't move. Frank was setting the pace, and Matt wasn’t, and that was it.

He fought, how he fought, and Frank gritted his teeth and didn’t go any faster and let him tire himself out until Matt’s elbows gave out and his arms folded on the mirror, his head on them.

“Harder, Frank, please, I can, please, let me,” and it was like he couldn't take enough air in for more than two syllables at a time.

“No.”

Matt wanted it harder, and Matt wanted it faster, and Matt wanted to ride the edge between pain and pleasure and maybe, sometimes, when he felt too much guilt, go right over that edge and only feel pain. And Frank – he wasn’t having it. If there was no pleasure in it at all, he _wasn’t_.

But then, Frank also _wanted_ , right now, so he started going a little faster, and a little faster again. Matt’s moans were echoing in the bathroom, in Frank's head; he rested his forehead on Matt’s shoulder blade and held on, held on until he felt Matt start to come and he finally put a hand around Matt’s dick to feel it from inside and outside and that was it, that did it for Frank, too.

He tried to break his fall with a hand on the mirror so his weight wouldn’t all fall on Matt as they caught their breaths, but he wasn’t very successful. It felt like it took a long time, but maybe he’d lost track of it while he watched Matt’s hair flutter with his every exhale. In, out, flutter. Frank smiled. He moved his hand from Matt’s dick to his stomach. There was come on it, and he wondered if it could seep back in his body, if he rubbed long enough. Maybe he could try. Maybe he could find a way for Matt to stop losing so much of himself. So much blood.

“Filthy,” Matt said. He was smiling, Frank could hear it in his voice.

“You complaining?”

Matt turned around and leaned back against the mirror, shivering a little when his back touched the cold surface. “Mm. No.” His arms came up over Frank’s shoulders, and drew him in until they kissed again.

There was a little thump against the door and a doggy whine, and their kiss dissolved into giggles. “Lucy’s feeling abandoned,” Frank said.

“We stink. She won’t even recognize us if we open that door.”

Frank tugged on Matt’s cross. “So we’re stuck here?”

“Well, I do feel sticky,” Matt said. Frank groaned. “Hey, it’s your fault.”

“Fine.” Frank walked backwards into the shower dragging Matt with him. “For the dog.”

“For the dog.”

 

Lucy still seemed to recognize them when they got out, because she wagged her tail and followed them to the bedroom.

“Hey, girl,” Frank said. “We’re still here, yeah?” She settled down on the floor, probably biding her time and waiting for them to fall asleep so she could sneak on the bed. Well, she _thought_ she sneaked on the bed, but since it usually involved stepping on one or both of them she wasn’t really that stealthy.

That was okay, she wasn’t a dog trained for war. Frank was. Matt, too, although a different kind of war. But Lucy – she’d gone through her own hell and got out still able to live and enjoy life. She’d only needed a little help from her friends, yeah? Fuck, he really needed to get a guitar.

“Frank?”

He looked up from the dog to see Matt wearing sweatpants and holding a shirt in his hands. “Yeah.”

“You know, I worry, too. When you got poisoned, I… it was bad.” He bunched the shirt up, turned it around, bunched it up some more. “I couldn't find you at first; your heartbeat, your smell, your everything, it was all wrong. And then I did find you but you were all – there was no blood, I couldn't smell any blood, but you were all wrong, Frank. All wrong.”

“If you didn't worry, _that_ would be bad.” There had been times in Frank’s life when he hadn’t worried about anyone, not even himself. Those hadn’t been good times. It hadn’t been a life, either.

“Stick used to say…” Matt sat on the bed, shirt still in hand. “He's dead now, but I still hear him, you know?”

“Old man talked shit.”

“I don’t know. Not entirely.” Matt started to put on the shirt, but Frank stopped him.

“Don’t.”

“But you said I’m a mess.”

“And? Are you cold?”

“I… Maybe?”

Frank sighed. “Wear it if you’re cold, don’t if you’re not. I don’t care what you look like.” Matt put it on. “I know you’ll get hurt, Matt. I can’t stop you. I don’t want to, you know?” There were things you couldn't prevent. Frank knew that, now. And Red and he, they were who they were. Blood and violence were part of them; would probably be their death. But meanwhile? Meanwhile, there was life. “Get in bed, you martyr.”

“Not you too, Frank.”

“Hey, that girlfriend didn’t keep you but I am, all right?” They shuffled around a bit in bed until Matt settled on his side, probably the least bruised one. Frank wrapped an arm around Matt from behind and got as close as he could. “Can you feel my heartbeat, now?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it sound right?”

“It does.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it is,” Matt mumbled.

“Good night, then.”

Matt didn’t answer. A heavy limb over him, a heartbeat in his ear, and he was out just like that. Yeah, Frank was keeping him. When Lucy trampled them and woke Frank up in the middle of the night he reconsidered keeping _her_ but then she lay down on Matt’s feet and he made happy little noises, so fine. He was keeping her too.

**Author's Note:**

> Potential triggers:  
> someone is gassed (agent BZ, they recover)  
> using sex (and your partner) to hurt oneself (stopped)  
> kids being used and manipulated (stopped, probably on par with what happens to canon characters)  
> grievous bodily harm (mostly offscreen, bad guys, canon-typical)
> 
> And yes, Leo makes Frank read the Vorkosigan books ;-)


End file.
